


Don't Run, Not Now

by theobligatedklutz



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Fluff, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, WARNINGS:, i guess?, please heed warnings, willie said "run boy run"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theobligatedklutz/pseuds/theobligatedklutz
Summary: Say anything, Willie. Please just break his heart.Anything. But he knew his voice would come out shaky, fickle. Alex wouldn’t believe him the minute the words left his mouth. That was if he could say them through quivering lips.“I should go- I need to-”-Or Owen said "they should've made out right here" in the "we never should've met" Willex garage scene and I don't agree but I wrote it anyway.So uh they made out. I can't remember anything else.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 228





	Don't Run, Not Now

**Author's Note:**

> This is unrealistic, neither Willie nor Alex could've gone straight to 'let's make out' in this scene. Please this relationship is slow-burn, slow development and we wouldn't want it any other way. 
> 
> **PLEASE READ WARNINGS IN THE TAGS**

It’s like Willie had the midas touch except whatever he touched withered under his hands.

It started with the screeching of tires, reds-yellows-blues painting his vision and blood pooling under his head. Standing idly while his family buried his body and watching them slowly fall apart without him there. He always thought if he was ever going to disappear, they’d be okay. He skated away so many times, ran away from roaring fights with his mother about how he was reckless and irresponsible, ran away from rules and restrictions that gave him nothing but _no_ for an answer, that he thought if he ever just vanished, they’d forget him. Mutter “good riddance” and move on. They hadn’t. He watched them collapse in on themselves, watched his mother’s glorious brown hair go silver during the restless moments of silent nights. Watched his father’s once steady, focused strokes become shaky, uncoordinated. Watched his sister lose her love for music, her eyes sunken and her movements skittish. 

In a matter of a year, he found an empty house. Peeling paint and charring memories.

And Willie learned attachments only got you into trouble. Especially when Caleb came into the picture. 

Then, he met Alex. Sweet, soft Alex. Who looked at him with new dewy eyes, looked at him like Willie held the world in his hands. And Willie was starting to have fun again, he hadn’t gotten close to anyone for _so_ long, he forgot how good it could feel. It wasn’t just whirring wheels and skating over ramps, it was warm hands and sharing secrets. It was hushed voices and fleeting touches and screaming in museums. It was the desire to impress the beautiful boy in front of him. It was the rattle of his phantom heart against a non-existent ribcage. There was affection and want like Willie had never experienced before and Willie couldn’t get enough of it. 

It was over just as Willie was starting to realize he’d fallen too hard, too fast. 

It was over before he could tell him, tell Alex how he was starting to feel about him. 

And all that was left was the taste of regret and self-hatred in his mouth.

He had made a mistake. He had brought the boy he was starting to fall for straight in the hands of Caleb Covington and the man took all of one hour to trap their souls within his grasp.

Willie hated himself, for what he had done, for hurting someone so important to him.

Everything, everyone he touched got hurt. Everyone he got close to withered away, left him.

When Alex found out, he would too. So Willie did the logical thing. He ran. It was so selfish but it kept the illusion that Alex still liked him intact in his mind and that’s all he needed so as not to fall apart at the seams. 

He could only run so far before he came back, his head stuck to dust-ridden windows trying to catch a glimpse of golden hair and tender green eyes. He needed to check on Alex. He needed to see if he was okay. He wasn’t. Everytime Alex jerked back, a jolt hitting him square in the chest and his face twisting in splitting pain, Willie’s whole body shook with mind-numbing despair. 

He just didn’t plan on getting caught.

_He couldn’t even spy on Alex right. God, he was such a screw-up._

He planned on skating away, disappearing, before Alex could come chasing after him but Alex poofed in front of him, almost making him lose his balance on his board. 

“What’s your problem?” Alex looked way beyond frustrated. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes screamed for answers Willie didn’t have. Willie couldn't help but back away like he was being scolded, his breath coming in short like he’d run a marathon. _He deserved to see the look of utter hurt that sat on Alex’s face, he deserved to see the consequences of his actions._ “It’s like you’re tracking me down just so you can keep running away.”

Willie was really good at that. Running away. He’d done it most of his life and all of his afterlife. He ran when there was no way out, he ran away when he was too afraid and he ran when he was in love. That was just what he did. So Alex was right, Willie was running away because he didn't know how to do anything else. 

Willie shook his head, his fists tightening at his sides. “I wish I could explain, man, but I can’t.” 

It took everything in him to keep the despair out of his voice. He didn't want Alex to see how much he was hurting when he was the one who had hurt Alex. It didn’t work like that. Willie didn’t get to be distraught over this. The sudden need to go, leave, disappear hit him like a tidal wave again and he took another step back, trying to find a way around Alex.

Alex sensed it, saw the way Willie drew back but there was a sudden thunder in Alex's eyes and he chased Willie, stepping forward and closing the distance. “Wait- That’s not... _good_ enough. I mean, you’ve been acting weird ever since Caleb’s club.”

And there it was, Alex subconsciously putting it all together, connecting the dots. It made the dormant panic in Willie’s veins kickstart again, his nails stabbed into his palms. If he was alive, there would be bloody half-moons embellishing the insides of his hands.

Willie felt it before he saw it, the insecurity. Alex’s breath rushing out shakily, his tall frame caving in on itself. Alex licked his lips, shrugged his shoulders, tucking his hands into his pockets trying to hide the way his fingers trembled. “You know...I thought we were having fun together.”

Together _. Together._

They _were_ having fun. Willie couldn’t get enough of Alex. He wanted to do it for eternity. _Have fun with Alex._

It was too late. If he had a time machine, he would go back. Make it back to just _them_. _Together_.

He would’ve never introduced Alex to Caleb- 

No. No. No. Caleb would’ve found a way to hurt Alex. He would’ve come after Alex anyway. Willie couldn’t have stopped it. Alex still would’ve been feeling the jolts.

If he went back in time, there could've only been one solution to make all of this right.

The looming thought made his insides curl up, something in his chest sinking. 

The notion left his mouth before he could stop it, came out into the air steady, clear and with conviction like he meant the words. He didn't.

“We never should’ve met.” He glanced at the ground, his eyes flitting about but never back at Alex. He couldn't look at Alex. He knew Alex would see right through it. His facade of _this was fun but it’s over._ He needed the rejection to drive Alex away. Enough that he’d move on.

_Move on, Alex._

He prayed that Alex would. Because when he found out what Willie had done, how he pushed him straight into the mousetrap, Alex would want nothing to do with him. The mere idea of that made him want to flicker away. He'd rather not exist than have Alex hating him.

The soft “wow, that hurts” that left Alex’s mouth brought his gaze back up. Alex’s green eyes were drenched with inextinguishable _pain_ and it felt like Willie was burning, his blood ablaze with scorching fire. There was a time when Willie had felt Caleb’s jolts, against the side of his head, down the column of his spine, like electric claws digging into his back. This felts worse. This felt so much worse. _So much worse._

He couldn't take it anymore, he needed to go. Run as far as he could, away from his feelings, away from what Alex did to him. His world was in ruins and he needed to poof off, find some dark corner to scream in before the hurt split him in half. 

Alex had his hand on his wrist then, gentle yet so firm. Willie noticed how close Alex was, how he had crowded into his space and he could feel Alex’s warmth radiating off of him and settling against Willie’s skin. And he didn’t realize he was _so cold_ until he could feel that heat. There was still anguish twisted in Alex's expression but now, his long lashes were damp. 

_He'd made Alex cry._ His chest hurt and there was tears gathering in his own eyes. The rush of blood buzzed in his ears, a screeching ringing in his head. It sounded too much like the honking of the grey pickup truck that rammed into him.

“Willie...” Alex whispered, like he was begging. Like he was desperate. His voice still sounded tantalizing to Willie’s ears, pulling him back when he wanted to retreat. Magnetizing. Alluring. But Willie couldn’t have that. He couldn't do this.

Willie was about to repeat the words he’d just said. _We never should’ve met._

Maybe throw in some cliché break up line even though they were nothing short of friends– anything to get his point across. 

_I’m sorry, Alex. You’re a great guy but this can’t– this won’t work out. It’s better if we stop seeing each other._

Anything _._

_Say anything, Willie. Please just break his heart._

Anything. But he knew his voice would come out shaky, fickle. Alex wouldn’t believe him the minute the words left his mouth. That was if he could say them through quivering lips.

“I should go- I need to-” 

Alex lunged forward just as Willie tried to poof off, tried to escape before he gave too much away. Alex's hands framed his face, fingers spanning over his cheeks and lifting his jaw so they could meet each other half-way. He was kissing him. _Alex was kissing him._

Alex was kissing _him._

Soft lips against his chapped ones and everything disappeared around him, the world a muted blur surrounding them both.

Something loosened around Willie’s shoulders all at once and he forgot to breathe when his mind caught up to his body.

Alex’s lips were so warm against his. They reminded Willie of home. The smell of polished chestnut and his mother's honeyed green tea, his father's acrylic paints and Kippy's wooden colouring pencils.

Then there was that incessant burst of citrus, like Alex was infusing himself into his memories, probing softly at the already weak wall Willie kept up around his mind and he let him. Willie let Alex break down his walls. And all of a sudden, he belonged again. Like everything was right in the world and Willie was not some troubling little mutineer.

_Alex made him belong, accepted him. That was all that mattered. That was all that would ever matter._

Willie let the first tear fall when he felt the way Alex’s gentle calloused thumbs sweeped over his cheeks, just under his eyes, like he was something delicate.

Nobody had touched him with such kindness since his family. Nobody had given him such tenderness for what felt like eons. This felt too much like a dream he _never_ wanted to wake up from. Alex had always felt like a dream, something just within reach but unobtainable all the same.

Willie pressed forward. His fingers curled around Alex’s pink tee, his hands clasping the fabric so tight like if he let go, he'd sink into the ground. He always wanted to be this close to Alex. Impossibly close. For a moment, it felt like he could be and that moment was enough.

Alex never prodded, not now, not before, not ever. It was always a soft touch, tender words, never pushing but always there. The kiss too, it was chaste, but a firm press of lips, affectionate but just enough that Willie could pull away. And it was not fair. Alex was _so good_ , so right. And he deserved so much more than Willie. 

_Willie didn't deserve Alex._

_He didn't deserve Alex throwing all caution to the wind like this, taking a risk, pressing so close to Willie. Not when Willie was too big a risk, too dangerous–_

Alex's hands came to rest on his shoulders, fingers threading through the strands of hair falling out of Willie’s helmet. This was what the afterlife should’ve felt like. A safety net to fall back on. Feeling like you actually had a heartbeat drumming in your chest and blood rushing through your veins. The phantom feeling of life. Forgiving fingers, kind lips, forest eyes. _Alex. Alex. Alex._

 _This was what the afterlife should’ve_ _-_

_But this was not what the afterlife was. It was jolts, being strung-along, doing someone’s bidding, having the one thing you loved dangled over your head. It was hell. It was Caleb._

He stiffened against Alex, feeling cold despite the warmth they had accumulated around each other.

_Caleb could be just around the corner. Caleb Covington could kill Alex if he wanted to. He could take away everything Willie held dear if he wanted to in a matter of seconds._

And that thought alone veered him enough to shove Alex away, his hands against a broad chest pushing enough that there was distance between them and all remaining warmth running through his body was ripped away. 

_He was so cold, he wanted to cry._ He was crying. There were tears tumbling down his cheeks, wet and hot and stinging his eyes and blurring the sight of the utter hurt on Alex’s face.

“I’m sorry.” Willie whispered into the air between them, before grabbing his board with shaky fingers and doing what he did best. Running. 

Because all he knew how to do was run. That’s all he had ever known. And the regret followed him like a shadow.

Hurting the dazzling, beautiful, incredible soul that burned him with just the right amount of heat. Leaving behind the only source of warmth and kindness in his world of bitter cold. Running away from his sun.

_Running, running, running away._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [theobligatedklutz](https://theobligatedklutz.tumblr.com) and come yell at me about what y'all think about this fic.


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